


Reduced Vision

by admiralty



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angry Mulder, Caught, Episode: s07e18 Requiem, F/M, Face Punching, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 12:17:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20760239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralty/pseuds/admiralty
Summary: What really happened in that office when Mulder assaulted the auditor in "Requiem"?





	Reduced Vision

The morning sunlight streams in through the slats of his blinds, blanketing the bedroom in a golden sheen. It’s new, different. He swears the light has never been quite like this before. This room symbolized loneliness for so long it’s almost jarring having someone else here. 

Having _ her _ here.

She’s on her side, asleep, facing him, wearing one of his old college T shirts. He watches the visible planes of her body rise and fall in contentment. He loves to watch her sleep. In these precious moments she is safe from all harm; she is completely at peace. 

She’s told him on multiple occasions over the past few weeks she is happy, and in these quiet moments he can almost believe her. 

Will she still be happy after they shut down the X Files? Will she stay with him after they’re split apart once again?

Her eyelids twitch as she stirs, the corner of her mouth twisting into evidence of some pleasant dream. He hopes she’s dreaming about him. After a minute her eyes open, eyelids heavy. He swears the blue of her eyes is a different hue when she awakens.

“Mulder, are you watching me sleep?”

He nods, smiles. “Guilty.”

She _ mmmmm_s and pulls him to her by the back of his neck, as if every second spent awake and not kissing him is a waste. He kisses her back because if she’s thinking that, she’s not wrong. 

He tugs on the bottom of the T shirt she’s wearing, his fingers dipping beneath it. She’s got nothing on underneath. “Christ, Scully,” he groans against her mouth. 

_ How the fuck did this happen? How is any of this real? How did he get so goddamn lucky? _

“Easy, there,” she says sleepily, putting her hand over his. “I’m still waking up.”

“Tease.”

He moves a strand of hair out of her face. He must look thoughtful because she cocks her head in question. “You okay?”

“Yeah… sorry. Just nervous about the audit this week.” 

“I know, me too,” she confesses. “But Skinner said it’s purely budgetary.” 

“I’m not sure why they’re coming after us,” he says. “We don’t spend an unusual amount of money in the field, do we?”

“Maybe we should start sharing motel rooms,” she grins. 

“I don’t have any objections to that,” he says. “You’re the one with all the rules.” They’ve broken their fraternization rules before, a few times. Rules were made to be broken, he figures.

“It’s nice waking up with you,” she says quietly after a moment. 

“It’s nice having you here.” He wraps his arms around her and brings her body close to his, kissing the top of her head. Her hair smells so good: like some fancy product she only uses for special occasions. He smiles, remembering the night before.

“I had fun last night,” she says, as if reading his mind. They’d attended an FBI gala together, not the first time they’d done so but certainly the first time they’d done so as a couple. Or as… whatever they are. He still isn’t quite sure.

“Me too.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Really? Or are you just saying that?” He hates work social functions, and she knows it.

“I really did,” he insists. “Although I don’t know why they had it on a Sunday. I don’t really want to go to work today.”

She smiles, twirling her fingers at his nape. “Then let’s not.”

"Not go to work?” He tilts his head, as if the mere suggestion is abhorrent.

“Why not?” she asks. “When’s the last time you took a personal day, Mulder?”

He searches his memory. “Um. 1997?”

“You’ve earned it,” she says. “We both have. Let’s just stay here. In bed. All day.”

He grins, because as worried as he is about so many things, nothing sounds better than spending an entire day in bed with Scully.

“Okay. I can do that.” He interlaces their fingers together, pulls them up to his lips. “Skinner’s gonna be suspicious when neither of us show up today, though. Especially after last night.”

She looks at him. “Do you think he knows?”

“Scully, I’m pretty sure everyone knows,” he admits. They’d been actively hiding their affection for each other all evening but it hadn’t stuck. It had been difficult for them to pretend things were the same as they’d always been. He isn’t typically a betting man but odds are that the jig is officially up.

She’s quiet for a moment. It concerns him. “Is… that okay?”

She holds him tighter and her fingers trail across his back. “It’s fine. No, it’s fine.”

So much is uncertain about their future: the status of the X Files, the status of their partnership. Not to mention the status of his own health that she knows nothing about. The idea of their peers knowing their romantic status feels relatively unimportant. But maybe it isn’t to her.

"It’s different for you, Mulder,” she says, answering his unspoken question. 

“What do you mean?”

She sighs. “Men can do this sort of thing and get away with it. It’s not a big deal for you to sleep with someone you work with.” She doesn’t bring up Diana, which he’s grateful for. “But for a woman…” she trails off.

“Scully, we spend practically every waking minute with each other anyway. No one would think less of you if they knew we were… canoodling.” He grins. “Are you really worried about that?” He knows he’s overcompensating. But he’s only doing it because he’s worried too. What _ he’s _ worried about is that any day now she’ll come to her senses and put a stop to this new arrangement.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve really wondered.” He waits for her to continue. “There are men, you know, who feel… entitled. To women.”

He shifts uncomfortably. “Do you mean…”

“Not you,” she reassures. “Never you.” He breathes a sigh of relief. “For god’s sake, Mulder, it took you seven years to kiss me. The last descriptor I’d use for you is ‘entitled.’”

“But…?” he presses.

“But, there are men who feel this way. Like they are due something from women. And women who become known for sleeping with their coworkers…” 

“Coworker, Scully? Is that all I am to you? Some piece of meat?” He pouts and she punches him playfully.

“To me, you’re not. To me you’re… so many things.” She traces the curve of his jaw with her index finger. They haven’t said _ the words _ yet. But he feels them now, beneath the surface. Waiting silently. “But to people on the outside, you can see how this might look.”

He’d never really considered this particular aspect of taking the plunge with regard to their relationship. Maybe he never thought Scully would care what others thought, because he certainly doesn’t. But perhaps she has to care. 

Yet again, he’s forced to consider all the ways in which Scully’s career at the FBI is unfairly disadvantaged. He wonders if she’s been subconsciously avoiding intimacy with him all these years in part, at least, for this reason.

“I don’t want to be just some guy you’re sleeping with at work who makes you feel that way,” he says gently. “I don’t want this to be something that concerns you.”

“Mulder, you are anything but _just_ _some guy_.” She hooks her leg over his hip and he tilts her face to look at her. She’s so fucking beautiful it nearly takes his breath away. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been, okay?” she assures him. “These past few weeks have been incredible. No regrets.”

He exhales in relief as she leans forward to kiss him. He takes the opportunity to taste her, to really enjoy and savor having this perfect woman here in his bed, and like he does so often lately, wonders how he went so many years by her side without pressing his lips to hers.

Especially since a day doesn’t go by when he suspects it might be their last, for any number of reasons.

She pulls back, smiling. “Just forget about it, okay?”

He nods, and decides he will forget, just for today. Today will be about them. It will be perfect. 

***

Tomorrow he remembers again, and he is reminded in a most unwelcome way.

A stack of expense reports had been plopped down in front of him earlier this morning, and he’d been given the third degree by Agent Short, the auditor apparently responsible for shutting down the X Files.

“We could start sharing rooms,” Mulder had half-joked. But the look on Short’s face had been anything but amused.

After the initial evaluation, Mulder is called back into Short’s office. 

“If you spend so much time and money looking for aliens, responsibly you should narrow your search,” Agent Short smarms. Mulder now recognizes him as one of Kersh’s lackeys. He and Scully have been chewed out in that office enough to notice him there multiple times, lurking in the background.

“To where?” Mulder asks, sarcastically.

“Wherever they are,” is his ridiculous answer. “It's not unreasonable. It's just a matter of reducing your vision.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my vision,” Mulder says, gritting his teeth. “Or Agent Scully’s. In fact, I believe the scope of our vision is exactly the reason the FBI has an X Files unit to begin with.”

“The future of the unit remains undetermined, Agent Mulder,” Short counters. “I for one will not sit idly by while Mr. and Mrs. Spooky go joyriding around the country chasing aliens on the government’s dime.”

Mulder blinks. “What?”

“You heard me,” the stupid little man says, adjusting his stupid little glasses. Mulder realizes in this moment that Scully’s concerns weren’t unfounded in the slightest. _ Mr. and Mrs. Spooky? _

“Agent Scully is my partner,” he says sternly. 

Short chuckles. “Sure, okay. Don’t think I haven’t heard all the rumors.”

Maybe his joke to Short about sharing their motel rooms had been ill-advised. “What rumors?”

The auditor’s eyebrow goes up. Mulder hates that look on anyone other than Scully.

“Please. Everyone knows. We all saw you two at the gala.”

Mulder blinks again, the memory of holding Scully close - closer than two work partners should dance - still so fresh. He thought they’d been careful but it was difficult to hide his feelings for her, even from peers that probably assumed they’d been sleeping together for much longer than they actually have been.

“Whatever you think you saw, I’m pretty sure it’s none of your business,” Mulder challenges.

His non-denial seems to set the other man off. He scoffs, sizing Mulder up. “I should’ve known.”

“Known what?” Mulder leans forward, hands clenching his knees. His minor annoyance is ratcheting up into anger.

“Nothing,” Short shrugs. “It just doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. She seems like the type. ”

What was anger a second ago is now barely restrained rage. “And what _ type _ would that be?”

Agent Short looks at him with the same disdain he’d reserved for aliens mere minutes ago. “You know. The type who would sleep with anyone to get ahead.”

The ridiculous implication that sleeping with Fox “Spooky” Mulder would get Scully anything but derisive laughter notwithstanding, his anger does not abate. It increases a hundredfold.

It isn’t about protecting Scully’s reputation. It isn’t about his own ego either. The anger Mulder feels inside him now is animal rage: boiling up, absolutely primal. It’s cause and effect; a reaction, pure and simple, that has somehow found its way from his brain to his gut to his fist.

And suddenly that fist is flying, cutting through the stale air of the auditor’s office and smashing directly into the man’s face. 

Short goes down, off his chair, with a thud. For a minute he looks up at Mulder in absolute shock, as if this was the last thing he expected: that the audacity of this punch is more appalling than anything he’d just implied about Scully. And Mulder barely has the time to process any of it before he is upon him, punching him over and over again.

Short puts his arms in front of his face as Mulder hits him four, five times. Suddenly he is being pulled backwards by large strong hands that surround his biceps in a death grip.

“_Mulder _!” 

He hears Skinner’s gruff voice and briefly sees blood trickling out of the smaller man’s nostrils.

“What in the hell are you doing?!” Skinner growls into his ear, pulling him back. Mulder turns his head and everything moves almost in slow motion, as a look of utter confusion crosses his boss’s face. Agent Short groans from the floor, seemingly unable to move. 

_ Fuck. _

The X Files are already being targeted and now this? What if it’s truly all over now, in spite of the audits, in spite of everything else?

“What the hell were you thinking, Mulder?” Skinner hisses. All Mulder can do is explain. The truth. He reaches for the truth.

“He said… about Scully,” he pants. “I just reacted, sir. He all but called her a slut, right to my face.”

Skinner’s anger shifts gears more rapidly than Mulder has ever seen it, and he’s been present for Skinner’s mood shifts far more often than he’d like. His boss’s eyes flash as he stares daggers into the whimpering agent on the floor. He lets go of Mulder and crosses the room in two strides, bending down and picking the other agent up by his collar.

“Please… stop!” the scrawny man says. But Skinner doesn’t stop. He shoves the man backwards against a file cabinet and his glasses slide off his nose, along with a huge stack of expense reports.

“What exactly did he say, Mulder?” Skinner asks. Short’s hands go to his throat as he gasps for air.

“He said she was the type… to sleep around to get ahead,” Mulder says, still catching his breath. Skinner’s eyes bulge in anger. “And... I lost it. I’m sorry.”

“No, Mulder,” Skinner said, returning his glare to the smaller agent. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to lose it first.” He holds the man firmly and then slams him against the cabinets again, hard. With his other hand he slaps Short across the face. “It’s a real shame you fell down that flight of stairs on your way into work this morning, isn’t it, Agent Short?”

Short can only whimper.

“_ Isn’t it?! _” Skinner slaps him again, hard.

Short nods, as well as he’s able. Skinner nods back. “If I hear another word about this kind of talk regarding Agent Scully, or any of your female peers for that matter, I’ll have your ass thrown out of the Bureau so fast it’ll make your head spin,” he barks. “You got it?”

“Y-yes, Sir,” the man sputters. Skinner releases him and he scampers away down the hall towards the bathroom.

Mulder has finally calmed down and for a brief moment hopes he and his boss might share some common ground. He’s well aware that Skinner has a soft spot for Scully and would never have risked his own job for anyone else that way. But Skinner’s features harden, back to business.

“You’re on thin ice, Mulder,” he said. “That was for Agent Scully, not you. The X Files are already in trouble. I’m doing everything I can to keep you two afloat.”

Mulder grimaces, knowing his last chances are dwindling one by one. He’s grateful for his boss’s discretion, in any event. 

“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

***

_ “Again.” _

_ The single word escapes her lips, raspy, raw. His chest is glistening with sweat, rising and falling as he breathes heavily. _

_ Rolling over until she’s on top of him, she leans down and her hair falls into his face. It isn’t five o’ clock, not yet, but the shadow of stubble across his jaw has never looked sexier. _

_ He squeezes the flesh of her ass and gives it a light slap. “Already?” _

_ She nods. She isn’t fucking around. She promised they’d stay in bed all day and she intends to keep her promise. _

_ “Yes. Again.” _

***

Scully had known once she started sleeping with Mulder things would change. It’s one of the reasons- whether consciously or unconsciously- she’s avoided taking this step with him for so long.

She can’t seem to focus on work the same way she used to, probably having something to do with being around him all day, every day. The sight of him, the smell of him. Thinking about what they did last night, fantasizing about what they’ll do tonight.

And tomorrow. All she wants now are more and more tomorrows with Mulder. 

Things have been slowing down for them on the work front, finally. An end to the X Files wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, she has to admit. Things feel like they’re finally falling into place for the two of them. Maybe finding some new direction will be a blessing. 

What would Fox Mulder be like without the X Files? She’s never had a reason to wonder. But now she does wonder, constantly. What would he be like if she were the only obsession in his life?

She is jerked out of her reverie as she hears him behind her.

“I think I'm in big trouble.”

She spins as he enters the office, smirking a bit guiltily. He’s probably talking about the audit, so she tries to put him at ease.

“How many times have they tried to shut us down?” she reminds him. To be honest, she isn’t sure how much she believes her own reassurances. But keeping Mulder grounded is always her default position.

“Yeah, but I never actually assaulted an auditor before.”

Something about Mulder getting violent does something to her, always has. She feels an involuntary twitch between her thighs. An uncoiling, a burning. A slow smile spreads across her face. “Did you hurt him?” she asks hopefully. 

Agent Short hit on her at the gala and when she’d rebuffed him he’d given her a _ look _. Scully hates that look, but unfortunately knows it all too well. 

Agent Short is a fucking asshole.

“I reduced his vision a little bit,” Mulder admits. His hand goes to his head and he winces. She wonders if Short actually fought back for a moment but quickly realizes… no. This is something else. This is that headache thing that’s going on with Mulder lately he refuses to be concerned about.

She’s about to ask him about it- again- when the phone rings. 

Billy Miles, Bellefleur, Oregon. It feels like 1992 all over again, only this time she and Mulder are completely different. This time Mulder made her come last night. Twice.

“More alien abductions, Scully,” he grins, with the same eager grin he gave her in this very office eight years ago. She smiles back, remembering.

_ Do you believe in extraterrestrials? _

She doesn’t know, still. But she does believe a trip down memory lane with the newly-added benefits of their partnership sounds appealing. So appealing she isn’t sure how she’ll make it out of the office without tearing his clothes off.

“Mmm,” she replies. “I don't know how we could possibly justify the expense.”

“We'd probably turn up nothing,” he grins, heading toward the door.

“Let's go waste some money.”

As they walk towards the elevator her curiosity gets the better of her. “What exactly pushed you over the edge, Mulder?”

“Hmm?”

“Agent Short. What did he say to you?”

He shrugs, reaching out to push the elevator button. “Oh, nothing. He’s just got one of those really punchable faces.”

She can tell when he’s lying. Well, most of the time. She stops and turns to face him. “Mulder.”

“What?”

“The X Files are on the line. You _ hit _ someone responsible for deciding. Tell me why.”

He opens his mouth in protest but her eyebrow goes up and he backs off. She rarely presses him, so she takes this as a tiny personal victory.

“He said… something about you. Something I didn’t like.”

She furrows her brow. “What did he say, Mulder?” Her tone is the type she knows he won’t ignore. 

He sighs. “He mentioned seeing us at the gala, and that... you were the type... to sleep around. To enhance your career.”

She purses her lips. “Huh.”

“I’m sorry I doubted what you were saying the other morning, Scully. It appears you were completely justified.”

“So he said this about me and then… you hit him?”

Mulder nods.

“In the face?”

Mulder nods.

“Once?”

“More than once.”

She smiles. “He hit on me, you know. At the gala.”

Mulder nods thoughtfully. “It’s all making sense now. And it’s a good thing, too, because I was feeling a little bad about it.”

She shakes her head slowly. “Don’t feel bad. He’s like the villain in some adventure movie, and you defeated him.”

“And I got the girl,” he adds, eyebrows lifting.

The elevator arrives and as she steps inside, thoughts of Agent Short’s apparent revenge for her rejection are pushed to the back of her mind and an image of Mulder defending her honor is suddenly all she sees. 

Dana Katherine Scully has never been a woman unable to fight her own battles. And in the past, Mulder’s tendency to be a bit overprotective has been frustrating at best, downright irritating at worst.

But right now, it’s neither. 

As he moves to push the button she feels his other hand graze lightly over the small of her back and suddenly, inexplicably, she stops caring about her rules. 

The elevator doors close and she backs him up against the wall, bringing her face close to his. Her lips curve into a smile and she takes his tie into her hand, tugging it. The heat between her legs is back. 

He grins as she pulls his tie towards her, stealing a kiss that any movie hero might deserve in the final act. There are certainly surveillance cameras pointed at them right now but she doesn’t care.

“That’s really sexy, Mulder,” she breathes as she tilts her head back, allowing him access to her neck. 

“What is, me defending your virtue?” he growls against her skin. 

“My _ virtue_?” she asks as his hand creeps underneath her skirt. “What is this, the nineteenth century?”

“No. You’re an extremely modern woman.”

“Yesterday in bed you called me a tease,” she grins as his lips travel down her neck. Lately she’s been leaving her shirts more unbuttoned than usual, but he unbuttons one more. 

“Well I was obviously kidding,” he says as his head disappears between her lapels. “As it turns out you’re incredibly easy.”

“Mulder… this isn’t a good idea…” she breathes, realizing too late it was she who got him going in the first place, but simultaneously not caring. He spins her around so her back is to the wall of the elevator and she tilts her head back in ecstasy, his own cradled between her arms, obscured between her breasts.

And it’s in this exact position they are revealed as the elevator doors open to the shocked and disgruntled Agent Short himself. Scully hisses “_Mulder! _” into his ear and Mulder stands upright, blocking the other agent’s view of her exposed chest.

Scully peeks around him to see the man standing there gaping, his face hideously bruised, and before she can think of anything to say Mulder does it for them all.

“Wow, that looks pretty bad, Agent Short,” Mulder says as Scully furiously buttons up her shirt. “What happened to you?”

“Uh, I…” Short stammers. “I fell down the stairs.”

“Better get some ice on that,” Scully says as she brushes past him, taking Mulder’s hand. “I hear those government health plans are expensive.”

They walk through the lobby hand in hand, as it suddenly occurs to her all this hiding is exhausting. Mulder turns towards her and she notices for the first time his mouth is smeared with her lipstick. 

“Well, Scully,” he says, seemingly unconcerned with the watchful stares of the agents around them, “for a man who wanted us to reduce our vision, he certainly got an eyeful.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The gala they're referring to is from another one of my works, not required reading but you can find it [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15810795/chapters/37396211)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feedback is much loved!


End file.
